


The Gallant Trio

by Thadeus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Destiel - Freeform, Established Relationship, Fellatio, Fluff, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Romance, Sex in the Impala, Storms, Wincest - Freeform, Wincestiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 16:56:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/813865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thadeus/pseuds/Thadeus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An epic storm and a broken-down Impala leaves Sam, Dean and Castiel stuck for the night. Dean and Castiel have ideas of how to spend their time, and Sam has an idea of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gallant Trio

**Author's Note:**

> I don't normally write porn, but it was sort of a dare.

“It's broke!” Dean announced, gingerly slapping the roof of the Impala as he peered in through the window at it's wet occupants. Sam, in the passenger seat, with his long hair plastered in chunky tendrils to the sides of his face, scowled as sheets of rain blasted around Dean and into the car. Dean rolled his eyes. “There's no way in hell or heaven that I'm going to haul ass through this wash-down to find a station, so looks like we're tucking in here for the night.”

Through a howl of wind, Dean's ears barely catch a small sniffle from the backseat. He jerks his head further through the window, craning his neck to peer at a pale shivering Castiel. “You okay back there, Cas?”

“Yes Dean,” came the gravelly reply, through blue-tinged lips that matched the big watery eyes that stared back at him.

Dean nodded like a bobblehead, grumbled, and pulled himself into the back seat.

“I'm fine,” Castiel insisted.

“Perfectly,” Dean agreed. “Now take off your clothes.”

Sam was the one who did the double-take. “What?” he exclaimed. “Dude. I am right here. And I'm pretty sure you aren't deprived, considering the noises from your room the past few days. You can think of something else to pass the time.” Sam looked to Castiel for agreement, but the ex-Angel had already removed his tie and coat. Castiel's fingers worked the little glassy buttons of his dress shirt, so wet that it was see-through.

Sam's gaze lingered a little too long, soaking in the lean chest and dusted pink nipples, wondering how it would feel to run his hand across the smooth peachy surface just below Castiel's collarbone.

“You too, Sammy,” Dean interrupted, relieving himself of his sopping ACDC t-shirt.

“Dude. No.”

“Alright fine, keep it on.” Dean shrugged, looked down to focus on undoing the line of buttons on his jeans. “But when you catch sick, don't come crying to me for noodly-soup and bedtime stories.”

He had a point.

Sam reached for the buttons on his shirt.

“Your hands are like ice,” Dean muttered, a few minutes later.

Sam sat, feeling altogether awkward, in a thin pair of green boxers. He peered to the backseat. Dean leaned against the door with Castiel cuddled against him (black and candy-striped boxers, respectively).

“Ice is frozen water,” Castiel muttered, almost on instinct, “My hand never used to be water. Nor does it have three stages of being. Not anymore.”

Dean frowned. He'd been expecting something like that ever since the angels fell, three days ago. “Sure you do,” he protested. “Being with me, not being with me, and being with me.”

“You said being with you, twice,” Cas corrected.

“Of course. Cause being with me is so awesome it deserves two spots of being.”

Sam surpressed a grin, looked away, and surveyed the storm. No signs of letting up anytime soon. He sighed. If he was going to be stuck with them in the Impala for much longer, he hoped for thunder. Maybe the noises would drown out the sounds – squishy gooshy wet sounds. They were kissing. Of course they were. Of COURSE they were.

Sam groaned, with beautiful timing, as Castiel let slip a tiny moan of happiness. Sam twitched, and his brain rocketed straight into the image of his lips being the ones pressing against Castiel's face, his chest, and then Castiel smiling at him and pressing his own face against Sam's-

Sam fell something brush against his hand, and looked down. His cock was swollen twice it's flaccid size, arched over his thigh to where his hand lay resting. The thin material of his boxers didn't hide it at all, and he said a quiet thanks for Dean being in the back seat instead of driver side.

“You're welcome,” Dean chirped back. The kissing and moaning had stopped, the air heavey with sexual arousal, and Sam almost laughed. There was no way that Dean was so good at kissing that Cas had actual thanked him for him.

“Hey, I'm talking to you,” Dean muttered, his voice sounding awfully close to Sam's ear. Sam swung his head around to see, and came almost nose-to-nose with Dean's grinning face, flushed with heat. “Come on back. Join us?”

Sam scoffed, “I am not, I mean, that is, interested. Not interested.”

“That so?” Dean said, eyebrows shooting upwards. He gestured his head toward Sam's thighs, where his cock still lay stiff as the wood of pinnocchio's nose.  
Before Sam had the chance to express his denial, Dean mashed their faces together, plush lips claiming Sam's with reckless fervor. Then he pulled back, winked. 

“Come on.”

“No,” Sam insisted, failing to hide a smile.

Dean rolled his eyes, and his head disappeared back into the backseat.

Sam turned his gaze back to the window, shifting uncomfortable. The sounds were getting worse, louder, more moans, mutters of names. Sam bit his lip as he heard the distinct snap of elastic as boxers were removed. He hooked his thumb under the elastic band of his own boxers, reasoning that they were boxer-less, so why couldn't he be, as he slid the clothing down past his knees. Gravity dropped them to his ankles, and Sam almost moaned as his cock sprang to freedom, no longer confined.

He watched the rain spatter hard against the window, and imagined that was what would be making the noise, when Dean entered Cas, full and deep. The noise is trees breaking around them and branches beating against the Impala, not Dean driving in and out of Castiel, whispering and promising sweet nothings to each other, climbing higher and higher that mountain of ecstasy. And then Dean would come inside of Castiel, a spatter all his own.

Sam's cock strained at the thought, the head positively weeping with the joy. A sweet, small wet prodding near the base and- what?

Sam looked down and almost gasped at the back of Castiel's head. The ex-angel was wedged in the space between the passenger and driver seats, being driven forward and falling back with the rythmn of Dean's thrusts behind him.

Castiel paused, raised a sweetly passionate smile and glazed-over blue eyes to meet Sam. “Hello Sam,” he practically purred, and then ducked his head down again to take Sam's cock whole.

Sam's voice caught in his throat. He wanted to look back, and give Dean a nice good bitchface, but didn't want to interrupt Castiel's vigorous enthusiasm. He imaged that there was no point anyways, the best he'd get could be a wink, or a vague grunt of amusement. The fucker probably put Cas up to it. So he should at least give in, and enjoy the ride. For Cas' sake. Yes.

Dean's thrusts became quicker, shorter, he was close. Castiel ran his tongue up the bottom of Sam's shaft, ending with a swirl across the mushroomed tip. Sam let out a guttoral moan. Two feet until the top of the mountain.

Castiel came first, streaking the floor and his own chest in a dash of transparent white. He spasmed forward awkwardly, his lips curled over Sam's cock, jutting forward until his lips hit lower belly skin. Sam gasped and then came in tadem with Dean. Castiel's mouth was blasted white, at the same time that Dean's cum painted his inside so hard that it leaked back, dripping in gobs against Dean's thighs.

The trio didn't move for a few minutes after, catching their breath, and enjoying the view from the top of Mount Ecstasy, waves of pleasure rolling over them as they wandered toward that post-sex self-satisfied sleepy state.

Dean moved first, leaning back against the door with his clothes bunched against the window as a pillow. Castiel planted a chaste kiss on Sam's cum-wet thigh, and then settled back into Dean's arms. Sam shifted in his seat, then rolled his eyes.

“You are both asshole bastards!” Sam shouted back to them. And then he got up, and joined them in the back seat.


End file.
